


This Pale Blue Morning

by Saral_Hylor



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1990, Alpha Tony, Alpha Ty, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Howard, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Steve, Work In Progress, author has no idea what she's doing, background Tony/Ty, endgame Steve/Tony, initial Howard/Steve, what if Howard found Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saral_Hylor/pseuds/Saral_Hylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve wakes up the last thing he remembers is crashing into the ice. He expected pain, and cold, but mostly not waking up again at all. </p><p>It's the year 1990 and the whole world has changed, but Howard Stark is still alive and it was Howard Stark who pulled him out of the ice. </p><p>Howard is simultaneously the man he remembers and someone entirely different. He's regret and disappointment and lost time, but he's the closest thing to home that Steve has left. And he asks something of him that Steve doesn't really know how to deny. </p><p>And then there is Howard's son, Tony Stark. He's anger and sadness and need. And seems to resent Steve for everything he is and was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing! 
> 
> Okay, now that we're all on the same page, I need to thank all the beautiful people who have been surprisingly encouraging of this work.  
> Thanks to Jeniouis for the read through and encouragement and letting me borrow from her A/B/O dynamics and ensuring me that mine aren't completely crazy.  
> Thanks to quandong_crumble for the read throughs and actually liking this story despite everything about it that isn't usually her thing.  
> And biggest thanks to 3White_Mage3 for the beta work and for encouraging me to post this.  
> This story is dedicated to that wonderful, perfect Mage.

He watched Howard as he surveyed the blood work, watching the man'a brow pulled down in concentration. He still struggled to see Howard how he was now, with greyer hair and softer skin. Gone was the man he'd known back in the war, with the bright eyes and perpetual smirk. Part of him missed that version of the man he'd once considered a friend more than an aquaintence. Now he wasn't sure what to classify Howard as. He was just there, a constant, and the only person remaining from his past. Everyone else was gone. The whole world as he'd known it was gone. 

That's what Howard had told him. And the papers that he's given him - the history - it was all there. 

He looked away from the other man, letting his gaze slide over the room that he'd been in so many times before. It was a world away from the last lab he'd been inside, under the streets of Brookyln, cleaner, neater. Richer. It was a real science lab, not something just thrown together in the time of war. The instruments and apparatuses were purpose built and industrial, breaking off into a workshop half way down the room, filled with half completed inventions. It was, in essence, everything that Howard Stark was in a smattering of physical items. 

A frustrated sigh bit through the silence and he looked back over to meet Howard's gaze as he looked up from the results that had appeared on the screen.

Howard shook his head slowly, eyes looking sadder and more tired than before. 

He looked away and tried not to feel relieved inspite of Howard's disappointment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read/kudosed/commented/bookmarked. 
> 
> This got a bit more attention than I thought it would. So, I thought I'd put up another chapter as a way of thanks.

He remembered waking up. He'd expected the cold, and pain, and being entirely alone. He hadn't expected to be tucked into a bed, blankets covering him to the waist, a constant beep echoing around the room and the feel of someone's hand covering the back of his. 

The instinct to fight was there - there was no telling who had actually found him - but he forced himself to stay still, letting his eyes crack open just a fraction and adjust to the assaulting light. 

The room had been white and clean, much like the hospital his mother had worked in. He strained his eyes to look at the person next to him, determined not to move his head, hearing the beeping take a rapid increase as he took in the shape of the man beside his bed. 

The profile was familiar, the shadow of a mustache he wasn't sure he'd ever forget. He opened his eyes fully, no longer feeling the need to be covert about his consciousness, and baulked as he took in the finer details of the man. 

It wasn't Howard. 

The man could have been Howard's father. 

He dragged his hand out from under the other man's hand, sitting up and feeling his head spin rapidly. The dizziness cleared before the man had had a chance to react. 

The man startled at the sudden movement, moving to placate him, hands up and his mouth forming calming words and reassurances. 

The man kept repeating over and over that he was Howard, the he was safe and didn't need to be scared. He'd crashed into the ice and been stuck there, asleep. 

He'd been asleep for almost fifty years. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [3White_Mage3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/3White_Mage3/pseuds/3White_Mage3) for the beta work. You're a gem, and deserve so much more than just the dedication of this story. 
> 
> Thanks to [Jeniouis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeniouis) for all the support and emails and for letting me tap into her A/B/O universes. 
> 
> Thanks to [quandong_crumble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quandong_crumble/pseuds/quandong_crumble) for the read through as well. 
> 
>  
> 
> Guess I should point out that this chapter is when it starts to lean more towards the dub-con aspects of this story.

He could feel it building up again, the vague ache in the pit of his stomach, the telltale signs of cramping. It was a feeling he dreaded, hated. It was just the beginning. He knew that in another day or two he'd be in a full blown heat, and then it'd start all over again. 

The gym was solace, of a sort, somewhere Howard never really bothered him. Somewhere he could be by himself and try not over think the state of the world. He liked to spend time there, especially close to his heats. 

The door opened behind him and the smell he'd become especially used to over the months since he'd woken up again was sharp against his nose. The scent of a beta. Low and musky it tempted him to stop what he was doing and submit as the natural order of superiority dictated. He didn't, setting his shoulders firm and didn't turn around to acknowledge Howard at all. 

"Steve?" Howard's voice drifted over from the doorway. "You're heat is coming on again." 

Howard could smell it, he knew that, the scent that came with the dull ache he could feel. He let his shoulders slump slightly, knowing that there wasn't much point trying to avoid the inevitable. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has been supportive of this and commented and left kudos. 
> 
> Thanks to my favourite Mage for the beta work and the insistence that I post this.

The first time it happened was a few months after he'd come out of the ice. He hadn't been in heat for a long time, the continuous action and the stresses of war had put a halt on his reproductive system. It had taken him by surprise, the cramps and the burning itch beneath his skin. He'd stood in the shower for a long time, until his mind was berating him for wasting resources, but the cold water cascading over him made the burning and the sweating stop for a while. 

But it didn't stop. As soon as he'd turned the water off it was back in full force, worse than he remembered it being, but he was sure that wasn't true. His body ached for him to give into biology, to give in to the urge, the need, the desperation to find a mate and let himself be bred. He'd never given into it before, and he didn't intend to give into it that time either. That continuous reminder that that was his lot in life. And how much he hated it.

Howard found him, curled up on the floor of his bathroom, taking comfort from the cool of the tiles. Despite the gritted teeth and harsh words, Howard hadn't just left him there where he was, he bundled him up in several towels and moved him to his bed. Howard had looked after him, the scent of a beta overriding all his senses, demanding attention and his body was crying out for some sort of relief, but he refused to give into the instinct.

He heard the things that Howard had said to him though, while the older man sat beside his bed and brought him water when he needed it. About wanting a child. Another one; who would take over the company from him one day, who would be able to carry on the Stark name. And who better to carry his child, who better to mix genes with, than a super soldier. The only super soldier. 

He ignored Howard's requests. Later on, once his heat had cleared, he pretended not to remember the things that Howard had said. The looks followed him though, as did the echo of the words. And the memory of everything that Howard had ever done for him, which only brought on the guilt at denying the beta the only thing he'd asked of him. 

A month and a half past of Howard looking at him with something that was a mixture if longing and regret. He tried to avoid it, tried to escape the guilt by running too far and wrecking too many punching bags, but in the end he couldn't get away from it. 

When his second heat came, he didn't deny Howard when he asked. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Fairly heavily implied dub-con. Possibly non-con in some aspects, depending how people interrupt it.  
> Full warnings in end note, if people wish to read those before reading the chapter.

He could still feel the empty loss of where Howard had been inside him, the dull ache and burning itch beneath his skin that seemed to be satiated for the time being. He didn't open his eyes, face still pressed against the pillow like it could block out the world just that little bit; because it was only a matter of time before his body wasn't satisfied anymore and the heat would be back beneath his skin and between his legs demanding more. 

Howard shifted in the bed beside him, tabacco smoke drifting steadily around the room. A hand fell on his back, calloused fingers trailing slowly up and down his spine, palm running over the planes of his back. It was soothing, so he didn't protest when Howard's hand drifted lower and lower with each pass.

"Maybe it'll work this time." Howard's voice was a little rough, tired, but no less wistful than it has been every other time he'd said those words. "You'll be spectacular as a mother. You're strong and perfect and you'll be able to bring up our child well. Proper." 

He wasn't sure if the resentment in Howard's voice was due to the perceived failure he felt over his son Anthony, or if the old man's hope of them having a child was finally dwindling. Either way he couldn't find any words of comfort for his old friend. Carrying and birthing children had never been something he had put a whole lot of hope in, not when he was small and sickly and no one really looked at him, and not once he'd been gifted a body more fit for an alpha. But Howard had asked him, almost to the point of begging, something he never thought he'd see a Stark do, and who was he to deny Howard that one wish. Howard had done so much for him, he'd helped him back during the war, he'd never given up looking for him after he'd crashed the plane. And finally when he'd found him he had offered him friendship and shelter in a world where everyone else he knew was gone, and the army wanted him to stand trial for what had happened during the war. All the orders he'd disobeyed and going absent without leave when all he'd been trying to do was do right by his men and his country. But the world didn't see it that way. Howard had told him that much. All the newspaper articles and history books that Howard had given him had only backed it up. 

Howard had done so much for him. It was selfish to deny him the one thing he really wanted. 

When the heat beneath his skin started to build up again, itch and curl through him, he let Howard kiss him again, moustache scratching against his lips. He could feel Howard's skin beneath his hands, going thin and soft with old age, having lost the vibrancy of youth he remembered in his old friend. And he let Howard push back inside him, his body welcoming him in, all his nerves feeling like they were crying out for the beta to mate him again. 

But he kept his eyes closed and hoped Howard couldn't tell that he didn't really want it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's in heat and lets Howard have sex with him because it's what Steve feels like he owes Howard, and because his body wants it. Steve doesn't actually want to have sex, but never says anything to makes any attempt to stop it.


	6. Chapter 6

The days after he woke up - came back to life - he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He didn't need to stay in the hospital-like room that Howard had built for him; he was able to get up and move around and despite the worried way that Howard watched him, he felt fine.  

Physically.

It felt like the world had been dragged out from under his feet and he was left with nothing to grab onto, falling, with no way to stop. 

Howard was there, but he wasn't the Howard he had known during the war. It wasn't the Howard who had flown into enemy air space just because they'd asked for his help, and it was completely reckless. He wasn't the Howard who'd built a flying car. The Howard who watched over him, who fussed after him, seemed like a shadow of the man he used to know. 

But then the world was a shadow of what he used to know. 

He tried to learn the history he'd missed. Howard gave him books to read and a collection of news paper articles and other papers he'd been keeping over the years. It was almost like he'd been collecting them with the idea of giving them to Steve one day. He guessed that Howard hadn't ever given up hope of finding him, even after more than four decades had passed. 

There were books detailing the end of the war, the way things had unfolded, the atomic bombs, and he felt sick just reading about them; angry at the world, and his country, for the way that things had had to go. 

There were pages and pages that looked like they should have been highly classified, military, typeset and aged, all about him. His deception of the army, lying about being an alpha, which became apparent through Erksine's notes after his death. Every order he disobeyed. And the last page, listing him as AWOL rather than MIA, and saying he would be taken before the Army tribunal if he was ever caught. 

Howard watched him as he read those pages, and as he stared at the last page, a hand rested on his shoulder and Howard promised him that if he stayed with him, the army would never get their hands on him. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will finally start moving forward after this. Tony is going to make an appearance in the next couple of chapters. That much I can promise.

He didn't stick around after Howard took his blood three weeks after his last heat. As soon as the needle was withdrawn, he left the lab, not looking at the beta as he went. His stomach was churning in a way he didn't like, sickening and solidifying, some sort of sense of panic fuelled adrenaline pulsing through his body. 

The gym felt too constricting, the indoors felt suffocating. Outside was off limits though, unsafe, too many chances he could be seen. There was a desperate crawling feeling under his skin that just wanted to get outside and breathe fresh air. Something he hadn't done since he went into the ice. 

Howard found him pacing in the front room, glaring at the locks on the doors. The disheartened look on Howard's face felt like a triumph. 

The guilt that hastily followed clawed at his stomach, and he felt hollow and numb like he had after he watched Bucky fall. 

"We're going to have to try again." Howard stated, sounding clinical and cold and nothing like the enthusiasm and charisma that had been there back in the Fourties.

"Why? What's the point?" The words snapped out of him before he could stop them. "You've already got a son." 

Something dark flashed across Howard's face. "He's uncontrollable and unpredictable. Not the sort of person that should ever be in charge of a company like Stark Industries. He's a loose canon and the company, _my_ company, I won't see it be ruined by him."

The anger and frustration simmered down inside him, the heat of it suddenly removed. He couldn't argue with Howard because he'd never met the son that Howard rarely talked about, and he had no idea what it must be like to hand over a legacy to someone who wasn't deserving of it, who wouldn't take care of all the hard work Howard had put in to his company. 

Taking a deep breath, he tried to reign in the last of the unsettled feeling inside of him, the want to get outside, get away, escape. "Why me?" He didn't think he really needed to elaborate on the question for the older man to understand it. "Is it just because I'm here?" 

"No, Steve," Howard's face softened again, eyes getting the glint to them that  wouldn't have been out of place in a basement below Brooklyn. "It's because you're perfect."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has commented and bookmarked and left kudos and for all those people who are just reading this.

The scent was the first thing he noticed when he stepped out of the gym, body damp with sweat and knuckles split open and bleeding into the wrappings on his hands. He had lost track of how long he'd been in the room, trying to work the tension out of himself, trying to knock the memories out of his head with each time his fist hit the punching bag, or with each footfall as he ran on the treadmill. 

It didn't matter what other sensations he tried to override his body with, he couldn't push out the memory from the night before. 

Howard had been waiting for him outside the door to his room, smelling like whiskey and tobacco, and had asked if they could go to bed together. He was still days off his heat, days left alone that he wanted to make the most of. He'd said no, and watched as that dark look flashed across the beta's face again. 

Howard had stormed off, after making the comment that after all he'd done for him, he'd have thought he wouldn't be so selfish to let an old man go lonely. 

Frustration tinged with guilt had kept him awake all night. Sleep didn't come after an hour of trying, and he hadn't been patient enough to handle to loudness of his own mind inside the quite of his room. 

The gym had offered some solace, not enough, it didn't protect him from his guilt, from the feeling that he should have said yes, to keep Howard happy after everything Howard had done for him. But he hadn't asked Howard for all his help, for protection. He could have made a go of it in the world outside if he'd had to. Howard was just all he had left. 

He finally left the gym when the gnawing hunger in his stomach had outweighed the guilt and frustration, and his knuckles were bleeding and begging for some relief. That was when he noticed the scent. 

It was something he hadn't smelt since the war. Something that made his heart ache with the memory of Bucky and some of the other soldiers he'd fought with. Something that was only a hint of what Peggy had smelt like, but lacking the fresh soap scent and the starch of her uniform, that had made him want her in a way he hadn't wanted to want anyone before. 

It was the scent of an alpha. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks again to everyone who has commented and kudos'd and bookmarked and everyone just reading this. It's always great to get feedback from readers <3
> 
>  
> 
> And, finally, Tony gets to make an appearance! Happy times for all the Tony fans! :3

The first time he saw Anthony Stark, every sense of decency and morals in him wanted to step between him and the rest of the world. To protect him, stand up for the person he saw standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, talking to Howard's butler, Jarvis. 

There was pain itching beneath his skin, clawing at his heart and making him see Bucky in the young face, dark hair and half cocked smile that seemed, for a moment, genuine. But the bruise shadowing his left eye and the bruises and bite marks littering the skin on his neck and disappearing beneath his collar made him want to find the person who had hurt the boy and beat some sense into him. 

It took a moment for him to realise the scent that had been filling the house, the scent of an alpha, was coming from Howard's son. 

He baulked at the realisation, brain struggling to catch up with the knowledge that an alpha had let himself be hurt. 

The animated chatter stopped suddenly, and it was only then that he realised he was staring. Howard's son - Anthony - stared back at him, eyes widening for a moment and nostrils flaring, no doubt picking up his scent, unmasked and unmistakably omega. 

Whatever initial thoughts the alpha might have had in response to the scent seemed to disappear when his eyes flickered up and took in the expression that he hadn't managed to school off his face. Brown eyes narrowed and the smile disappeared completely. Arms crossed over his chest, and it was impossible to miss the challenge that was being put across. 

He felt like he was being challenged to judge the boy, dared to say something about his appearance, and he willed himself to say something - not that, but anything - but words wouldn't form. 

He felt tonguetied and stupid like he had around Peggy. It was the memory of her that made him drop his gaze, not the look on Howard's son's face. But it didn't stop him feeling the smirk of triumph on the alpha's face, and wishing he could cross the room and wipe it off. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are still reading and commenting and leaving kudos and bookmarking. 
> 
> Sorry for the wait on this chapter. I was without internet access for a number of days, and then just too slack to update. Sorry.

The sudden addition to the household threw everything off kilter; he hardly saw Howard and when he did the beta smelt of tobacco and whiskey and would knock on his door late at night, night after night, until it was easier to ignore him than it was to turn down his advances. He tried to avoid Anthony as much as he could, but the alpha seemed to be everywhere - never like it was deliberate, but just there, whenever he was in the kitchen, Anthony would come in to look for Jarvis, or for another coffee. They'd pass each other in the hall, and every time he couldn't help the way he gaze would linger on the bruises and bite marks and every time he wanted to ask how they happened, but the words would get stuck behind a layer of common courtesy and the firm mental reminder that it was none of his business. 

He tried to ignore the feeling that it had something to do with submission.

"I can find you a camera if you want." 

The words snapped his attention away from the marks he'd been scrutinising and up to narrowed brown eyes. Something clicked in his throat as he swallowed, trying desperately to get the stunned questioning look off his face and act more like the soldier that he was. The offer of a camera was out of the blue, and didn't seem to match up with the expression on Anthony's face. 

"What, why would I want a camera?" His voice sounded strained to his own ears and he cringed internally, wishing that he had said something else. 

Anthony smirked - it looked wicked, but more defensive than cruel - mismatched with the narrowed gaze. "You stare, all the time, thought you might like to take a photo, since it lasts longer." 

He snapped his gaze away, too quickly, feeling it in his neck, jaw clenched and his pulse in his ears, denial caught behind his teeth. 

"One would think you've never seen the fall out of an alpha/alpha relationship before." Anthony's voice sounded slightly calmer than a moment before, but still laced with challenge. "It's just one big struggle for dominance, you know, but the sex is so worth it." 

There was less space between them, he wasn't sure who had moved closer, but the alpha was in his space, breath a heavy caress across his neck and cheek. "But, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you? Getting fucked, getting knotted? Bet that's why the old man just doesn't do it for you. But maybe you're just a big enough whore that you'll take a beta when there is no one else around." 

Plaster cracked and shattered beneath his fist, less than an inch from the boy's head, pain sparking in his knuckles and up his arm as he found a support beam behind the wall, something cracking, most likely broken. He heard Anthony swear, skittering sideways a few steps.

It was only as he walked away, pulse pounding in his ears and throat tight around shame and disgust, that he realised he'd deliberately missed. Despite everything that Anthony had said, he didn't think that the black eye had been part of the fun. 


	11. Chapter 11

The pain in his hand stopped him from being able to vent in the gym. He could feel small bones grating together, and knew that he should seek out Howard for help. He didn't though. He couldn't. The alpha's words still echoed around his head, and the determination to avoid Howard was even stronger. 

The swelling and bruising bloomed and faded over the course of the afternoon, and when he could flex his fingers again - little finger and ring finger not moving nearly as well as normal - the pain a fierce ache, he ventured back out of his room. The kitchen was hardly a safe place to be, but hunger won out over his stubbornness. And it didn't matter how many times Howard had told him too, he wasn't about to start making Jarvis get his food for him, just so he could save face. 

He could smell Anthony close by, but didn't expect him to be leaning against the counter, nursing a coffee, staring blank eyed at the telephone on the wall like he was a million miles away. The alpha startled, the barest flinch, blinking and turning his gaze around to look at the person who had intruded into his space. It took a fraction of a second, where Anthony looked younger and more vulnerable than he'd ever expected to see him before something shuttered behind his eyes and a smirk took place, twisting his face into something bitter and resentful. 

"Well, if it isn't daddy dearest's little omega. Did you go and grovel to him for putting your fist through his wall?" 

He could feel something hot and venomous in the pit of his stomach, urging him to bite back, to say that he never grovelled. Would cower to no one. But the words that rattled out of his throat, a voice sounding nothing like his own, where not the ones he planned to say. "He doesn't expect me to grovel." 

The alpha arched an eyebrow, tilting his coffee mug from side to side between his hands, fingers tapping on the side in a way that was far too distracting and possibly a little hypnotic. "No, he just expects you to spread your legs for him." 

He could feel the tension in his body, shoulders stiff, hands clenched behind his back in an attempt to cage in the venom inside his gut. Bones not yet knit back together grated inside his hand, but he bit back the pain and refused to show it. "I'm not, you know." 

"Not what?" 

"A whore." The word scrapped across his tongue, bitter and leaving the taste of bile clinging to the back of his throat. 

The fingers stopped tapping on the side of the mug, and the expression changed from amused disinterest to something tinged darker and slightly hurt. "Not even a year since we buried her and he's already dragged you into their marriage bed. A whore, you might not be, but your morals certainly seem to be lacking."

Maria. Howard's wife. Anthony's mother. He knew that it could only be her that he was talking about. The venom turned cold and acidic in his stomach, chewing away at his insides until he felt like he was bleeding internally, rotting and decaying and a disgusting, despicable person. 

"I - I didn't..." He didn't know what to say. He didn't mean for it to happen? He didn't know she'd only died the year before? He wasn't trying to replace her? None of the words would form, caught in a solid lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow around, could barely breathe past. 

Jarvis cleared his throat, standing in the doorway. He saw Anthony jolt at the sound, and knew he probably had too. Relief flooded in at the distraction, that something had turned that bitter gaze away from him. It smoothed over the words caught in his throat. 

But it did nothing to cover over the rotten feeling inside him. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to 3White_Mage3 and quandong_crumble for the read throughs and pointing out any mistakes they spotted. Thanks to qc for listening to the ramble and complain about this story and offering support. 
> 
>  
> 
> Just a heads up, hit a bit of a slump with this story, with trying to channel a lot of my writing time and inspiration into one of my other WIPs, Love Doesn't Taste Like Candy Hearts, I've gotten a bit slack on this. Awfully sorry about that, and I'm going to try and share the effort between the two stories, but inspirations hits in uncontrollable ways (no joke, got inspiration for an Avengers zombie story earlier this week and I'm trying really hard not to write that just yet so I can focus on my current WIPs first.)

The rotten feeling didn't abate. It was there, eating away at the bottom of his stomach for the rest of the day. It killed his appetite, made him feel like he was going to be physically ill for the first time since Project Rebirth. 

It was still there when Howard knocked on his door that night. It churned and burnt and he couldn't stop himself from opening the door. He forgot his strength, the door bouncing back off the wall and knocking against his elbow. He was surprised that the door hadn't come off its hinges. 

Howard blinked at him, eyes glassy, looking generally surprised that the door had been opened. He smiled, slow and lazy, reaching a hand up to press the palm of his hand against his cheek. "Hello, beautiful, was starting to think you didn't love me anymore." 

He felt his throat click, decay creeping up out of his gut towards his heart. He jerked away from Howard's touch. "Am I a replacement?" 

He was a little surprised that Howard didn't ask for clarification, didn't need to ask who he was supposed to be replacing. His expression softened, his hands reaching up again, this time settling on either side of his face, holding him still and maintaining eye contact. "Steve, darling, of course you aren't. I mourned my wife, but then I found you." 

He could feel his jaw tensing under Howard's hands, part of him wanted to lean into the touch, the reassurance, but part of him still wanted to pull away. He blinked, trying to push away the damp feeling behind his eyes, because he was not going to get upset at the idea of being a replacement. He wasn't going to get emotional over the idea that he actually mattered to Howard. 

"I was searching for you for so long, and I finally found you." Howard leaned closer, moustache and lips brushing against his, soft, tender, and he felt his jaw wobble slightly, too many emotions swirling inside his head, but the rotten feeling still chewing at his insides. 

Howard's face blurred in front of him, too close to focus, but when he closed his eyes all he could see was Anthony and the hurt look on his face when he'd mentioned his mother. He stepped back, dragging his face away from Howard's touch, clenching his teeth until his jaw stopped trembling. "I think you'd better explain that to your son." 

The way that Howard's eyes darkened and mouth twisted down felt more final than closing the door. 


End file.
